


We Had A Connection

by MCmondo



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M, Family, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:21:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25767358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MCmondo/pseuds/MCmondo
Summary: No matter how often their bond was twisted, strained or bleeding, it was never severed. T/Z Throughout the years
Relationships: Ziva David/Anthony DiNozzo
Comments: 7
Kudos: 27





	1. 1

Should he pour a glass of bourbon, or should he just get an early night? That was the question. One urge was certainly stronger than the other, and he wondered when exactly it was that he became Gibbs. He knew exactly how long had passed since the shoes had first been unceremoniously dumped in front of him, and he'd been forced to try and fill them without any time to prepare himself mentally, but he wasn't quite sure when his routine outside of work had become so Gibbs-ish.

Case, orders, bad-guy, cuffs, steak, bourbon, repeat. What was the weather like down in Mexico?

Nearly two months.

The only thing missing was a basement and boat.

Tony grunted to himself and grabbed the bottle from his cabinet. It was only when he was twisting the cap off that he remembered it was Friday, and that they'd just wrapped up another case, so maybe he shouldn't be debating between bourbon and an early night after all. Maybe the only decision on his mind should be which bottle of wine to bring to her place this time. He grabbed his jacket and keys on the way out. He'd have to hit the store on the journey over.

Red—Chilean red—that's what she liked.

There was one part of the new regime that was still decidedly different to Gibbs'.

An uncontrollable bolt of irritation and impatience coursed through Tony's veins on the way over. He couldn't be sure why he was suddenly itching to arrive at his destination so much, but he was very sure that'd he gone over the speed limit on several occasions. It was as if a surge of adrenaline had taken over his brain. That was until the apartment door opened and Ziva gave him a half amused, half suspicious smile. Then every fibre of his being seemed to relax. Her hair was down, and she wore nothing but a tank-top and shorts.

She looked delicious.

''It's a little late, don't you think?''

He was about 80 percent sure she was only teasing as he checked his watch. ''It's never too late for wine and cheese.''

She gave him a quick once-over. ''You do not have any cheese.''

''I was hoping you'd help me out in that department,'' he admitted, offering her the bottle of wine he'd previously had under his arm. ''You know, being a woman of culture, I assumed you'd have good taste in all things edible.''

That earned him a pair of narrowed eyes, as the bottle was snatched from his grasp. ''I see. And why would you assume that such a woman would have no plans or company at 2300 on a Friday night?''

''Because you have good taste in that, too.'' He gestured at himself and waggled his eyebrows to emphasise his point, earning him a look he decided to decipher as amused.

Ziva looked down at the wine bottle and shrugged. ''Apparently not. Come in.'' And, with that, she disappeared into her apartment with a most likely deliberate sway of her hips. It was suddenly feeling very warm.

Once Tony had locked Ziva's door and taken off his jacket—which he'd finally decided he was going to leave at home next time, as it wasn't necessary at the height of summer—he took a few steps into her hallway and found her leaning against the door frame of her living room, arching her back slightly and flipping her hair over her shoulder. It was more than enough of a signal for him, and he'd be damned if he had said he hadn't gone from slightly to extremely turned on in a matter of seconds.

''Be honest, Tony,'' she began in that voice of hers. The one that let him know she could see right through him, the one that usually wasn't heard until after a few glasses of wine or at least half a movie. ''Are you really here for wine and cheese?''

He raked his eyes over her body one more time. God, those smooth legs and that curve above the hip and that wild hair. It was all enough to set his whole body on fire. Then there were her eyes, so dark and fierce, yet somehow soft and understanding. Even Tony didn't fully acknowledge the real reason for his visit until this point, but Ziva knew exactly why he was here, and the way she was practically posing for him and staring straight into his soul did nothing but encourage it.

''Honestly?''

Ziva placed the now forgotten bottle of wine down on the table on her side of the doorway, before taking a couple of steps towards him. She was now so close he could smell her shampoo, but he didn't get much time to dwell on that because all of a sudden she had reached down to the hem of her tank-top and pulled it over her head, revealing nothing but smooth, naked skin. He couldn't be sure, but there was a strong chance he literally groaned.

''Yes,'' she whispered, ''I wouldn't want to suspect that you came here with an ulterior motive.''

Tony could only shake his head.

And that was when they both exploded, practically eating each other alive, clattering against walls and furniture as they raced to get themselves fully naked before they reached her bedroom. That night, Tony was pretty sure, was the hottest night of the summer. Ziva's apartment was practically molten by the time they were done.

It wasn't the first time, and it wasn't the last. It couldn't keep happening, though, that much was certain.

Both of them knew this, but never needed to say it.

* * *

She knew it was a bad idea. She knew it would only make everything harder. That didn't stop her.

Despite all the alarm bells in her mind sounding as loudly as ever, she knocked on Tony's door with two raps of her knuckles—sharp and business-like—as if this wasn't an entirely personal affair. He had been drinking again. That much was clear when the door swung open to reveal his face. She wondered if he'd ever stop beating himself up over Jenny's death. She guessed she'd no longer be around to see for herself, or to try and kick some sense into him like she'd been attempting to all week.

It all made her feel sick.

''You can't possibly be here to tell me I didn't screw up. Not after…''

Ziva sighed so hard it was practically a sob. She knew he'd blame himself for this. ''This is not your fault,'' she emphasised, walking past him and into his apartment without being formally invited to do so. ''This Vance man clearly has some sort of vendetta against Gibbs.''

''This Vance man is now our director. And he's punishing both of us for my mistake.''

She spun on her heals to face him again, and everything about his demeanour suggested he truly believed what he was saying. She couldn't decide whether she wanted to slap some life back into him or to kiss him for comfort. ''He is now your director,'' she reminded him. ''My director makes Vance look like… Santa Claus.''

Tony scoffed. ''I take it the David family reunion back in Tel-Aviv isn't going to be filled with balloons and champagne, then?''

Ziva sighed again and tried to take a calming breath. ''I always knew this day would come,'' she admitted on a shrug. ''At some point.''

''You should hate me right now.''

She tilted her head, narrowed her eyes, and took a step closer to him. ''You,'' she said sternly, finger pointed into his chest, ''need to stop trying to take responsibility for everything that goes wrong in the world.'' He stepped away from her with an eye-roll and headed for his bottle of what looked like Vodka on the kitchen counter. Naturally, she didn't let him run. ''Have you forgotten that I was there, too? That I was right beside you when we found her dead?''

His fist hit the counter, and it takes her a few moments to realise that he'd made her jump for possibly the first time. ''You were there,'' he confirmed in a voice she barely recognised. ''And you told me again and again that something wasn't right. And by the time we knew for sure it was too late,'' he grabbed his glass and took a swig. ''I should have listened to you from the start, ok? Is that what you want to here?''

''No.''

This time it was him that released a heavy sigh. ''Well I should have. I Guess I'll never be making that mistake again, though.''

She closed her eyes in frustration. ''Tony—''

''At least you'll be working with well-trained, bad-ass spies again. You won't have to worry about them getting their superiors killed.''

Ziva opened her eyes again, grabbed the glass of vodka out of his hands and took a healthy gulp of her own. She could feel his eyes on her, but just this once she was struggling to stand her ground and hold his gaze. Just this once she was in a serious tussle with her emotions and found herself on the verge on losing. It didn't help that this wasn't the Tony she'd become close with over the years. This was some other side of him, one that was all persistent self-punishment and defeatism. Usually this was the other way around, but she didn't know how to drag him out of this like he always did to her. Hell, he often did it without even realising.

She felt sick.

''It is more likely that I'll be dead within five years,'' she found herself admitting, an admission that seemed to wake something up inside of Tony, and when she did finally look up at his face there was a quiet determination there among all the misery and anger.

''Then don't go back.''

It sounded almost like a plea. ''Orders are orders, Tony.''

''Screw that,'' he growled. ''None of us want you to go. We'll fight for you tooth and nail.''

There was a sudden flutter in her chest, but she ignored it. ''And what about you?''

Tony let out another bitter scoff. ''Agent afloat. I've always dreamed of being stuck on a carrier surrounded by two thousand other people that are mostly men. I'll be fine.'' Upon her withering look he got the message that she wasn't in the mood for sarcasm. ''I'm a lost cause, Ziva.''

''So am I,'' she ensured him sadly. ''And even if I could stay in D.C,'' she did her best to fight back the lump threatening to form in her throat, ''you would not be here.''

His features softened considerably, and she could tell he liked the idea of them being separated about as much as she did. However, they never were any good and vocalising such things. ''Are you saying I'm the only one you trust watching your ass?''

In spite of everything, she laughed, returning the empty glass to the counter. ''I was thinking more like my back actually, but your eyes do tend to venture lower quite often.''

He leaned in and lowered his voice. ''I can multitask.''

''Oh, I'm well aware of that, Tony.''

Ziva wondered how just a few small interactions had managed to change the air around them so significantly, because all of a sudden the emotions that had been trying to overwhelm her all day had been pushed back down to the depths, and her heartbeat had kicked up a few notches, her skin felt flushed and her blood began to run south. She could feel an upcoming eruption between them, and even though she came to Tony's apartment that night looking for just that, it still managed to catch her off-guard.

His face was even closer to her now, as he started to reach out to her and fiddle with fabric of her shirt, right by the hip. ''I don't want you to go.''

She'd never heard him like that before. So raw and unguarded. Her hands were on each side of his face now, and the stubble scratching against her skin only added more fuel to the fire. ''I have to.''

And that was when the eruption happened. It started off slow and tender, which was unfamiliar territory for them, but it didn't take long before clothes were roughly discarded and the sheer desperation of it all led to a more familiar and frantic clash between them. It was their way of saying goodbye—a final goodbye—because she had been so sure at this point that they would never see each other again. That only added a heavy dose of nausea to the bliss.

It was only when she got back to her apartment early the next morning to start packing that the first tear fell down her cheek.

* * *

A bit of violent turbulence jolted Tony back to consciousness. He was trying his best not to doze off, but the accumulation of all the terrible experiences and revelations that godforsaken desert had given him had brought with them a state of mental exhaustion he'd never dealt with before. It was as though his mind had given up hours ago and his body was only now catching up. If it weren't for the fact they were flying on an uncomfortable and loud C130 plane, Tony was pretty sure he'd have been knocked out for the whole journey home. But he didn't want to sleep if he could help it.

Not when Ziva was clinging on to his arm like he was her lifeline.

Tony looked up at Gibbs, who was sat opposite him and looking just as determined to stay awake. The boss was alternating between staring into space and staring at Ziva. There was a look of relief in his eyes every time they found her, as if the seeing her alive and with them was an outcome better than he could possibly have imagined, even if she was clearly scarred for life in several different ways.

It was a feeling Tony understood all too well.

Ziva shifted slightly in the seat next to him, and he could have sworn he felt her tremble slightly. When he looked down at her and saw that distant, vacant look in her eyes again he was hit with a million different feelings at once—and not for the first time that day.

Fear, rage, longing, sadness, relief, desperation, sympathy, protectiveness, determination.

Love.

''Are you cold?''

His own voice was foreign to his ears. It was so quiet and scratchy that he was sure she couldn't hear him. She could, though, as the barely perceptible shake of her head confirmed. ''I was ready, you know?''

At first, her words confused him. It took his scrambled brain a few seconds to understand what she meant. She was ready to die. She was prepared for everything to end, including her suffering at the hands of those bastards, because up until that day death was her only means of escape. How does someone come back from that? Tony wished he had an answer for her, not least because he went into that sandy hellhole with no intention of coming back.

They'd have to figure it out together.

''So was I,'' he found himself admitting. The truth serum must have still been having an effect because he didn't mean for those words to slip out.

That was when her eyes shifted for the first time in forever. She was looking up at his face as if he had just grown a second head. As if she still couldn't for the life of her understand why he'd done this. As if she didn't fully trust his sentiments even if she believed them. After a few seconds she loosened her grip on his arm slightly and let her head fall against his shoulder. For some reason that action alone filled a small portion of Tony's heart with hope.

It was only after he was sure she was asleep that he allowed himself to drift off.

* * *

Ziva felt the scream dying in her throat as her eyes finally opened. It took about ten full seconds before the walls of the cell made way for the tasteful décor of the Parisian hotel room, and another five for her to realise why she was there. The arm around her waist was unexpected though, because she was pretty sure that wasn't there when she fell asleep.

Tony groaned from behind her back. ''Ziva? You ok?''

She took a few moments to get her breathing under control, and then turned under his arm to face him. The pain in his voice made sense after she saw his head tilted back and his free hand holding a bloody tissue to his nose. The dots were easy to connect. She did nothing to disguise the horror in her voice at her own actions.

''Did I do that?''

He shook his head and gave her a reassuring look. ''I'll be fine. It's not the first time a girl has hit me in the face.''

A drop of blood ran over his upper lip, and she brought her hand to his face to wipe it off without even thinking about it. What she did think about, though, was the fact that she'd just hurt the man who'd risked everything to save her life and had spent the months since looking out for her and watching her back. He'd been to hell itself just to drag her out of it, and now she'd found yet another way to make him suffer. He deserved so much better.

Just this once, she couldn't fight back the tears.

''I'm so sorry, Tony.'' she sobbed, burying her head into his arm.

''Hey,'' he said softly. ''You've got nothing to be sorry for.''

His voice was slightly choked as well now, and she just shook her head against him despite his arm hugging her tighter. ''You should have left me there.''

This time he took a deep, shaky breath. ''Don't say that. Don't you ever say that.''

* * *

When the bathroom door opened Tony didn't think anything of it. He just re-zipped his flies and headed to the sinks to wash his hands. But then, rather than hearing the heavy footsteps of the average man, he heard lighter and softer ones. He knew who it was even before he looked into the mirror. Needless to say, there she was, leaning by the hand dryer and regarding him with narrowed eyes. He wondered what urgent topic of discussion was on the agenda this time.

''You are aware that we're allowed to have conversations outside of the men's room, right?''

That didn't change her thoughtful expression. ''Do you really miss her?''

''Um,'' he frowned at his reflection, ''who?''

''The old Ziva.''

He turned around, frown still in place. ''Well, the old Ziva used to sneak up on me while I was in the bathroom, which was pretty annoying.''

Ziva looked down at her hands. ''You said you missed her.''

''She's right in front of me,'' he reminded her with a hint of exasperation. ''You're the same person.''

''Not according to you.''

He approached her, resting his arm above her shoulder against the wall. ''Since when do you pay attention to anything I say?''

The Ziva smirk is one thing that never changed over the years. ''You talk a lot, Tony. Sometimes you give us no choice but to listen.''

''Ouch.''

''Do I bore you now?''

And that question actually caught him off guard. He first thought this strange line of questioning was just banter, light-hearted and safe, but after that he started to suspect that Ziva might actually be feeling a little insecure about this. And an insecure Ziva was something he'd had very little experience with. At least not in the workplace. If only she knew that he was literally holding back laughter at the idea of anyone finding her boring, let alone her partner that had been to hell and back with her on numerous occasions.

''A week ago, you tackled me to the ground to protect me from an exploding barbecue. If that's boring then I'd hate to see what excitement looks like.''

Ziva chuckled as she reached up to adjust his shirt collar. ''We used to have a lot more… fun, though, didn't we?'' When he raised his eyebrow at her not-so-subtle suggestiveness, she tilted her head with a sigh. ''I mean at work, Tony. You know, back when we were just getting to know each other. Back before…''

When she trailed off, the air turned more serious. ''Before what?''

Her eyes betrayed her neutral expression because he could see a regretful sadness in them. ''I am not sure.''

Tony decided it was probably best not to dwell on that. ''You could never be boring, Ziva.'' Her face told him that was what she was hoping to hear. ''Besides, who cares what I think? CI-Ray clearly appreciates you. That should be enough.''

That was not what she wanted to hear, apparently, because her face fell, and she gave him a look of clear disappointment. It felt like he had just ruined playtime. It felt like he mentioned the one thing that was completely taboo. The only thing that was unclear was whether or not it was himself or Ray who was in her bad books. He hoped it was the latter, which it thankfully turned out to be.

''He has not made the time to see me in weeks,'' she mumbled, stepping away from the wall and towards the door.

Tony felt bad about ending this on that note. Whatever this was. ''Ziva?'' She paused halfway through the door and looked back to him curiously. ''We had a lot of fun outside of work, too.''

He wasn't sure why he needed to remind her of that, and it wasn't something he thought about a lot anymore. It did happen though. It happened a lot during that summer no one ever mentions. The one where Gibbs was gone, and Tony had spent every week treading water. 'Fun', in this instance didn't even begin to do it justice because what he and Ziva had was beyond hot. If her little trip down Nostalgia Avenue should overturn any stone for her, it should be that one.

He was relieved when she smirked. ''Perhaps too much.''

The door closed behind her. His smile was bittersweet.

* * *

When Ziva practically kicked the door open into Tony's room, she could see Dr Cranston jump slightly from her chair in the corner. From his hospital bed, her partner seemed less than shocked by her entrance. He simply took another bite from one of the jello-pot-things that American hospitals always gave out and glanced her way with a slight wince.

''I was wondering when you might show up.''

She pursed her lips. ''Well, they only just decided it was necessary to inform me that you were shot.''

He gestured at the vest in the corner, which was sporting a fresh-looking bullet hole. ''It only got my vest.''

''Which was attached to you.''

Tony stood up with a slight groan. ''A fact that the big bruise on my chest keeps reminding me of. Sorry, Doc, we may have to bring our little chat to an end.'' The woman in question had remained silent until this point, and Ziva could feel her eyes darting back and forth between the two agents. ''I think Ziva here may be planning to shoot me for real.''

Ziva drops the duffle bag she'd been holding at his feet. ''Put some clothes on. I'm taking you home,'' she ordered, before turning to Dr Cranston and trying to at least pretend to be a polite person. ''Sorry.''

''Are you taking me to my home or your home?'' Tony cut in from over her shoulder.

''Shut up,'' she warned him without taking her eyes off the other woman. ''I did not mean to interrupt.''

Dr Cranston glanced between them again. ''It's fine. I don't wish to intrude. I better go grab some shut eye, anyway.'' Ziva gave her a curt nod, and it was only after the doctor had gathered her bag and reached the door that she spoke again. ''Goodnight, Tony. Stay safe.''

Ziva rolled her eyes at Tony's returning scoff. ''Clearly, you've never been in a car with Agent David.''

Then it was just the two of them.

Tony removed his gown and started dressing himself with the spare clothes Ziva had brought him. She was going to turn around and offer him some privacy, but then what would be the point of that exactly? She was well acquainted with everything she could see. Well, everything except the ugly, purple bruise on his chest. That was new. Something in her expression must have shifted then because he seemed resigned to receive an ass-kicking for some reason, like a misbehaving schoolboy who'd been caught by the teacher.

''Just say it.''

She frowned. ''Say what, exactly?''

''That I'm an idiot for nearly getting myself killed.''

When he started to struggle with the task of pulling a t-shirt over his head, Ziva dutifully stepped forward to help him. She gently lifted his left arm above his head, and he let out a pained groan followed by a heavy sigh. Once the t-shirt was securely on his torso she decided to keep her hands on his shoulder. It calmed her for some reason.

''You are not an idiot,'' she assured him softly. ''You were following orders.''

Tony turned his nose up briefly. Clearly, that rationale didn't satisfy him. ''But you're still mad at me.''

For the first time since she'd stepped into the room, Tony's behaviour started to make sense. He thought she was angry with him for getting hurt. Yes—admittedly—she was in somewhat of a prickly mood about the whole thing but none of that was aimed at him. Or, at least, she didn't mean for it to be. She hadn't been there to protect him. That was what had made her feel so irritable and frustrated. She stepped away from him and towards the window. She was suddenly feeling the urge to check behind the blinds.

''I am not mad.'' Her tone clearly led him to believe otherwise, though, because she could see him wince again in the reflection of the glass.

''Are you sure?''

Satisfied that there were no threats outside, she turned back to him with her hands on her hips. ''Ok, I am a little bit pissed off, but not at you.'' He seemed genuinely shocked by that news, but also curious. ''I was not there to watch your back. That's why I might seem so…''

She trailed off as she struggled to think of the right word, but Tony had apparently gotten the message loud and clear.

''I get it.''

Ziva sighed. ''You could have been killed and I wouldn't have even known.''

Tony picked up the duffle bag and glanced everywhere but her face. ''I did miss you. If it's any consolation.''

The feeling was very much mutual, but she shook her head. This was not the place. ''Let's get you home,'' she tells him as they headed towards the door. She opened it for him.

''I've moved apartments since the last time.''

Ziva gives him a nod. ''I am aware.'' He pauses on the way out and gives her a funny look. ''Don't worry I won't come in. I know it's your sanctuary.''

''It's not that. You look really nice. Were you going out somewhere?''

''Oh,'' She looked down at herself, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious. ''I had a date with Ray, but I had to cancel.''

Tony nodded. ''Because of me.''

''Yes.''

''Sorry.''

''Let's just get out of here, Tony.''

* * *

The elevator's emergency lighting brought a double dosage of relief. Because not only could he see his own hand in front of his face now, but he could also see Ziva again. She was still lying on top of him, and her eyes were darting around with panic. She seemed to be uninjured and he couldn't feel or smell any blood, so he crossed his fingers that he was also unscathed. Ziva finally shifted to slide down beside him. At first he frowned when she started running her hands all over his body, but then he realised she was checking for injuries.

''I think I'm ok.''

She nodded shakily and ran the tips of her fingers over his cheekbone. They were trembling, though.

''Are you ok, Ziva?''

''Yes.''

He sat up stiffly and reached over to place a hand on her shoulder. ''Breathe.''

It did seem to have its desired effect. Ziva took a few deep breaths and even squeezed his other hand. But then she was slapping away the one on her shoulder and jumping to her feet. ''The others. We need to get out of here.''

Tony got to his feet a lot slower than she had. ''Ziva…''

''They could be hurt, Tony.''

''I know,'' he acknowledged patiently. ''But there's no way out of here. We have to sit tight and wait.''

She stopped pacing and looked at him. ''I have never been very good at that.''

Despite everything, Tony smiled. There she was, standing in front of him in a stuck elevator with messy hair and wild eyes. She looked scruffy and dirty but so, so alive, and for some reason that fact was enough to keep his own panic at bay. Sure, the situation sucked but they still had each other, and historically that was the primary requirement for Tony to function. It was even more important than food, water or oxygen and it took him far too long to realise that. Now he had realised it he was never going to let himself forget.

Cherish each other. Everyday.

Ziva's hands went to her hips. ''What is so funny.''

''I'm just glad I'm stuck with you and not McGee.''

That earned him a short, breathless laugh. ''Are you sure you haven't hit your head?''

''I can never be sure. Gibbs has head-slapped my skull into oblivion. My cranium has no feeling.''

Ziva gave him a slight smirk then, and Tony received a small amount of comfort from the fact that she seemed to have calmed down and allowed herself to be distracted. She took a step towards him and raised her hand up to his hair. When she started running her fingers over the back of his head in a gentle caress he couldn't help but close his eyes at the sensation. He could sense her chuckle even before it was released.

''You can feel that.''

She wasn't wrong. He groaned quietly. ''Were you a masseuse in a previous life?''

''No. But I am good with my hands.'' Tony opened his eyes again, wondering exactly how he was supposed to interpret that. Ziva's face told him his dirty mind was in the right place. ''As you well know.''

He raised an eyebrow at her. ''Now I'm starting to worry that you've got a head injury.''

Ziva rolled her eyes, before something on the ceiling seemed to catch her attention. ''The hatch.''

Tony looked up at the hatch in question. ''Huh.''

''Do you think you can lift me up there?''

''That depends. How big was your lunch?''

That earned him an unimpressed look when her gaze returned to him. ''Just crouch down so I can get on your shoulders.'' He grunted as he looked back up at the offending hatch. ''Please, Tony. We need to try.''

With an unenthusiastic sigh, he obliged. ''Yes, ma'am.''

* * *

Ziva arrived for Gibbs' thanksgiving dinner feeling a little nervous. It was a unfamiliar feeling to have ahead of a social gathering with the team, but it was one that had seemed to grow stronger and stronger with each mile covered between the Navy Yard and Gibbs' house. She gave herself an internal slap and tried to shake herself out of it. It was her family. There was nothing to be nervous about. She was never more comfortable in life than when she was with these people. So why couldn't she seem to calm down? A voice deep in her conscience reminded her that it wasn't the team that she was nervous about seeing tonight. It was a very specific member of the team. The butterflies in her stomach came back again with a vengeance.

By the time she'd knocked on her door, her heartbeat was more or less under control. But then it had to be him who opened it. It had to be the man who'd listened to her open up about her sister, understand her emotional need to mark Tali's birthday, and selflessly helped her to do so. Her eyes welled with tears for about the ninth time that night.

''Hey,'' he greeted softly.

She opened her mouth but couldn't quite seem to find her voice. Instead, she simply stepped up to his level and threw her arms around him in a tight hug. He returned it quickly, but she could sense his trepidation. He was holding her like she was a fragile flower who might crumble in his hands. For once, though, she didn't care. For once she was going to be open and vulnerable and anyone else who wasn't her and Tony could suck it. Because she was finally ok that he could bring this out of her.

''Are you ok?'' He asked gently.

She sniffled against him. ''I am now.''

Ziva was in love with him. That much was certain. She wasn't sure how long she'd been in denial about it, but she was going to have to start admitting it to herself.

She had no idea how to tell him, though, or where they went from there.

When she felt him kiss the top of her head she supposed that it didn't matter in that particular moment.


	2. 2

She couldn't stop smiling.

There was just something about seeing these two men—these two very different men who both meant so much to her—interacting over dinner and wine. Ziva sat right beside Tony, with Schmiel opposite them and leaning forward rather excitedly as he listened to yet another story about their line of work. Schmiel seemed genuinely fascinated by it, and Ziva couldn't blame him, really, because Tony always told a good story. The fact he and the older gentleman were on their second bottle of wine between them probably helped loosen the lips and bring an extra extravagance to the tales.

Tony glanced Ziva's way again, as he had kept doing all night, and the warmth and tingles she'd grown painfully used to over the years seemed to be threatening to completely take over her body. She loved both these men—albeit in different ways—and seeing them get on like a house on fire made her smile. Tony mirrored her in that moment, but there was something more in than just shared memories in that smile. There was genuine fondness and affection that Tony rarely let slip around other people. Up to that point she could only trust herself enough to smile back in fear of giving him too big of a glimpse into her heart. She so wanted to touch him. To reach out and run her hand through his hair, right at the back of his head at the spot where she knew from memory triggered relaxation. She wanted to get inappropriately close to him and to maybe even kiss him by the end of the night.

But she couldn't allow herself to do any of that, and so smiling at him with open adoration was the furthest she would go. For now, anyway.

What could she say? She was happy and she didn't care who could see it.

''And so Ziva kicked the guy straight in the nuts and practically power-walked to the nearest bathroom,'' Tony concluded another story, and Schmiel burst out laughing yet again.

''That sounds just like my Ziva.''

Tony glanced Ziva's way and caught her staring at him _again_. ''That was actually the first time we got trapped together,'' he explained with a noticeable change to his voice. ''It's happened so many times since that she brings a book and some earphones with her everywhere we go.''

Ziva rolled her eyes.

Schmiel also shot a fond look her way and suddenly she wasn't too comfortable being the centre of attention. ''You have been through a lot together,'' he said with a knowing twinkle in his eye. ''There is a special bond there that I can see, even with my poor eyesight.'' He turned his attention back to Tony. ''Thank you for looking after her for all these years.''

''Oh, she can look after herself. Believe me.''

Ziva waved a dismissive hand, deciding that she should probably do something other than just watch them all night. ''He watches my back, Schmiel,'' she assured him. ''It is just something he does.'' Tony gave her a small smile at those words, and she felt her insides get all mushy again. ''Something he has always done.''

It seemed like Tony became almost uncharacteristically shy at her words. ''It's a job I take pretty seriously, I guess,'' he shrugged.

And that's when she did finally reach out to him. She only went as far as his shoulder, which she gave and affectionate rub, but the gesture was enough to satisfy about 5% of the urges she'd been having all evening. The initial tension in his shoulder upon her contact only lasted a second before he visibly relaxed again. He didn't seem comfortable being showered with compliments like this, even if he deserved or merited them. Maybe he would be more receptive if it were just himself and Ziva in the room.

''It is special,'' Schmiel re-iterated. ''And clearly it is more than just a _job_ to both of you.''

Both Tony and Ziva looked at each other again, and Ziva knew they were both waiting for the other to answer. It took her a fair few seconds to realise her hand was still on his shoulder, and even longer to realise that she had, indeed, shuffled closer to him during the conversation. Tony's eyes flicked to her lips and back for a split second.

''Well, we're more than just partners,'' he answered eventually.

Ziva felt herself raising her eyebrow at him. Whether it was in surprise or in warning, she wasn't sure. Because, god damn, if he kept looking at her like that and saying things like that and being all delicious and honest like that then she may well have taken him home and shown him just how much 'more than a partner' he really was to her

And she could see—oh, yes, she could clearly see—that Tony was remembering exactly how good it was when they used to cross that line. They crossed it many, many times during that summer a million years ago, and Ziva would be lying if she said she hadn't thought about it a lot over the previous months.

The night ends. Eventually. No line is crossed after all. At first Ziva is disappointed, but then she realised that she had chickened out as much as Tony had. Maybe it was just harder than it was back then.

Maybe they just had a lot more to lose.

* * *

Tony completed the journey from the kitchen to the living room having only spilled about three drops of mulled wine—quite an achievement in his eyes—and dropped down onto the couch with a small grunt of appreciation. Admittedly, the task seemed to be growing more difficult with each glass he emptied. He reminded himself that maybe he needed to start slowing the pace down until at least after the big turkey dinner. He distributed the drinks evenly on the coffee table.

''One for you, one for me and one for the lady.''

Senior leaned forward from his seat beside Tony and enthusiastically took his drink. ''Cheers, son.''

''You better be pacing yourself,'' Tony warned him. ''We don't need you causing any trouble.''

He was shot with an innocent look he was far too used to seeing. ''I've had as many as you have.''

''That's what's worrying me. I'm practically seeing double already.''

They both shared a chuckle together, and Tony found himself somewhat surprised that he was enjoying his father's company as much as he had been to that point. He concluded that any surprise from Senior that wasn't a deeply unpleasant one had to count as win. The man in question patted him on the shoulder.

''This is what I had in mind for Christmas day, Junior. Me, you and the holiday spirit.''

Tony had to admit it had its appeal. ''It feels like it's been a while since I've embraced it.''

''You should always embrace it,'' Senior advised him. ''Hell, even Gibbs has his Santa hat on.''

He smiled at the unlikely truth. ''Remind me to take at least one picture of that.''

''Deal.''

Another pair of harmonious DiNozzo laughs resounded just as Ziva entered the room, bouncing with what seemed to be the same jovial spirit that had infected the two of them. It couldn't have anything to do with the alcohol, could it? Before Tony had a chance to give himself a definitive answer, Ziva had ran her hand over his shoulder as she perched herself on the arm on the couch to retrieve her drink. Suddenly, he found himself transfixed by her gorgeous hair and enticing smell. God, why did she always have to look so delicious and get so close to him and generally make him question all semblance of professionalism. Something in Tony's brain must have reminded him that this was not a professional setting, though, because he continued to stare at her. Ziva seemed untroubled by his lingering gaze but still raised her eyebrow in curiosity.

''What are you looking at?'' she asked after a sip.

Tony shrugged. ''You.''

That earned him her special suspicious/ accusatory look. ''Have you put something in my hair? Or on my back?''

He couldn't help but snort, but only after she started to run her hand through her curls and reach awkwardly towards her back. ''Why would I do that?'' he asked in bemusement.

''Because you are you.''

Senior tutted from over his other shoulder. ''Junior, you wouldn't do that to her, would you?''

This time Ziva snorted. Tony looked back at his dad. ''Oh, I would.''

''Yes, he would,'' Ziva confirmed.

''But I haven't.''

She took another sip. ''You were smiling.''

Tony briefly acknowledged that she was still leaning on his shoulder as he returned his attention to her, but they both seemed perfectly ok with it and—if he was honest—he was more than happy to keep her right there for as long as possible. If there was one sure-fire way to bolster his good mood it was being in the company of Ziva when _she_ was in a good mood. Plus, she smelled really nice. Tony hadn't had too much wine to forget that he shouldn't really say that to a woman, though, even if he meant it in a completely non-creepy way.

''Well, maybe you just look really good today,'' he found himself saying instead.

_Wow, way to be non-creepy, DiNozzo._

Ziva seemed flattered by his words, however, if her smile was anything to go by. ''How much have you had to drink?''

Busted. ''One or two.''

''Bottles?''

He tilted his head and gave her an unimpressed look. ''Are you implying that I have to be under the influence of alcohol to shower you with compliments?''

''I would not know. You've never done it before,'' she shot back, squeezing his shoulder to let him know she was only jesting.

Tony held his finger up. ''I plead not guilty to this accusation.''

Ziva chuckled, patted his chest a little too fondly, and turned her attention to Senior for the first time since she'd re-entered the room. ''I hope you are having the Christmas you pictured. I know Tony is much less of a finch than he lets on.''

''She means grinch,'' Tony clarified.

Senior ignored him. ''Ziva, my darling, it's better than I pictured. Not least because you're here.''

Tony scrunched his face up. ''Oh, Dad, come on!''

''What?''

As always, Ziva was far more tolerant of his father's self-acclaimed charm than she was when she received it from just about anyone else. ''You are very sweet. I know you initially wanted to have Christmas dinner with just the two you.''

The scoff escaped Tony's throat before he could stop it. '' _He w_ anted it to just be the two of us.''

Ziva swatted his collar bone but didn't pay his words any attention. ''I am glad you accepted Gibbs' invitation.''

''So am I,'' Senior assured her. ''Besides, neither of us our particularly good cooks.''

Tony was going to defend himself in that department, but then he saw the look Ziva gave him and decided it wasn't needed. Because he could somehow tell just by her eyes that she was remembering the dinner he'd cooked her only a few weeks before. It had been a movie night— (not a date. Definitely, definitely not a date)—at Ziva's place, in which he cooked for her just because he wanted to prove he could. They shared a smile, seemingly on the same wavelength. Tony was fairly certain the tingling sensation that resulted was not down to the mulled wine.

''Is that so?'' Ziva teased.

Tony winked. ''I make up for it with my extensive take-out knowledge.''

Gibbs suddenly appeared in the doorway behind Ziva. ''Extensive is a good word for it.''

That wiped the smile off Tony's face, quickly replacing it with a frown. ''Did Santa Claus just call me fat?''

The Santa in question took a swig from his beer to try to hide his smirk. ''Wouldn't dream of it,'' he lied, before nodding in Ziva's direction. ''Ziva?'' She sat up in order to give him her attention, and the unexpected absence almost made Tony whine in protest. ''I need someone who's good with a knife.''

''Oooh,'' Ziva responded enthusiastically, before taking a big gulp of her wine and placing it back on the table. ''You have come to the right place.'' She managed to get painfully close to Tony's face again as she was getting up off her perch. ''Duty calls,'' she told him with a smile.

''And the good soldier answers,'' Tony nodded.

She seemed to hesitate slightly on her way towards being stood up, though, and Tony found himself wondering what exactly was on her mind when she looked over her shoulder to make sure Gibbs had disappeared again. His frown only deepened when she reached over and patted his stomach and, in doing so, brought her mouth right up to his ear.

''Santa has bad eye-sight,'' she whispered.

And, with a wink, she was on her feet and out of the room again.

The tingling intensified. Tony smiled to himself, took another sip of his drink, and only remembered he still had company when he turned his head to see his father giving him a smile that was all too knowing. The expression reminded him of when he'd been caught flirting with his crush back in high school. Only then it was his buddy giving him the look and not his until-recently-estranged dad.

''What?''

''I'm telling you, son, the way you two look at each other—''

Tony's head hit the back of the couch cushions. ''Please don't start this again.''

''Trust me,'' Senior lowered his voice and turned unexpectedly serious. ''When you've found the right person the last thing you want to do is waste the time you have with them.''

A defeated sigh escaped him. ''It's complicated, ok?''

''I know. Can I ask you one thing, though?''

A big part of Tony almost forced him to groan at how much he didn't want to talk about this with his father. However, another part of him—perhaps a bigger one, as it turned out—was still curious. He knew Senior had fallen in love at least once. He knew that his parents were happy together and believed themselves to be soulmates. Maybe, in this particular instance, any advice received might be just what he needed to hear.

Or, then again, it could have been something he really _didn't_ need to hear

He still found himself wanting to find out. ''Ok.''

''When I gave you the ring yesterday, who was the first person you pictured wearing it?''

Tony didn't answer. He didn't need to. They both knew.

Before any more words on the subject were spoken between the two of them, Gibbs re-appeared and issued a new set of orders pertaining to the laying of the dinner table. And, just like that, neither DiNozzo had a serious conversation for the rest of the day. It turned out to be one of Tony's favourite ever Christmases.

* * *

The look in his eyes nearly broke her. She loved those eyes more than any others on the planet, and yet when she saw nothing but sympathy in them, nothing but trepidation at the idea of looking upon her in such a delicate state, she felt consumed by resentment. And not towards him. It was as if she could see herself reflected in those eyes, as if she could see the ex-assassin who had been naïve enough to believe they could live a normal, happy life and love the people around them without the rug being violently pulled from right under their feet. Because, honestly, she had allowed herself to be hopeful of such a life, and maybe that was what really made Tony's eyes burn her right then. They often represented every reason she had for being happy and hopeful, and she really couldn't deal with that after what had happened.

Her father had returned, tugged at the edges of the rug, and then Bodnar had finished the job.

She had just told Tony that she was done crying, but she had told herself that a few times already, and then she'd think of Vance and his kids. Or she'd ask herself why it was Jackie and not her that had been hit. Or Tony would look at her the way he did then.

''Ziva,'' he sighed. ''I am sorry.''

She knew he meant it. She knew he cared about her enough to put his differences with Eli aside. But she couldn't deal with this from him at that moment. He'd offered to be her shoulder to cry on or friend to talk to, and as much as the weak side of her wanted that, she couldn't let herself give in to that anymore. She had to find the strength from within herself. She couldn't allow him to bring that side of her out again.

''I appreciate that, Tony, but sympathy is the last thing I need right now.''

Her own voice sounded robotic and cold, as if they were barely acquaintances and not best friends and former lovers with an extensive history. She hated herself for it but deemed it necessary for both their sakes. Tony picked up on it as well, and seemingly didn't like it, but the look in his eyes changed along with his demeanour at that moment, and he started walking towards her with a look of sheer determination.

''Ok then,'' he accepted. ''Tell me, what can I do? What do you need?''

The emotions she was fighting so hard to bury reached out and squeezed her heart. Because that was one part of her they could always reach when it came to Tony, no matter how far she'd shoved them away. And now she was torn between keeping him at arm's length like she wanted or giving in and throwing her arms around him for a few hours of undignified sobbing. He was her loyal partner, ready and willing to be whatever she needed him to be.

Her rock.

But this was a side of her he wasn't going to like. This was going to get ugly, and if anything was going to test his loyalty to her then it was going to be the answer she ended up giving him. Because if she gave in to her heart then he would just end up being another person she loved who the world would most likely snatch away from her at a moment's notice. She couldn't let her poison spread to him, so she decided to remain as cold and distant as she could, despite the tears threatening to build in her eyes.

''Revenge.''

* * *

''I really thought we had him.''

He wasn't sure why he had said that. The words were essentially redundant, in that they offered no comfort or consolation whatsoever, but Tony felt like he needed to say them. He had to say s _omething_. Because the silence was killing him, and he couldn't shake off that dance and that look in Ziva's eyes and that feeling of deflation when they'd caught Yaniv and not Bodnar. It was all too surreal. It felt as though half of things that had happened that evening should have been dimensions apart in separation from the other half. And maybe Ziva felt the same way because she still hadn't said anything, even after they'd locked the door of their hotel room.

She simply gave him a sad nod after they'd kicked off their shoes.

It kind of broke his heart. ''We're getting closer, though, right?''

All that earned him was a heavy sigh. He wasn't sure he should take that as a yes. He also decided that maybe he should just shut up and let her work through this latest setback. Because, yes, he knew she'd see it as a setback, even if they'd just cut off Bodnar's finances. As much as it worried Tony, he knew she had wanted to put a bullet in the man that very night. He couldn't blame her, if he were honest, but he didn't think it was healthy.

Ziva did speak then, and it wasn't at all what he expected. ''I am glad you're here.''

He could only frown. ''Why?''

''Because I think I might have lost my mind tonight.''

As much as he appreciated the sentiment, the hurt he'd been compartmentalising all week bubbled to surface for just a moment. ''You say you're glad I'm here,'' he said with what he hoped was the utmost control, ''but you didn't even want me involved until I walked in on you and McGee's little after-school club.''

She almost seemed to flinch at his words. ''I was wondering when that might come up.''

He scoffed. ''Well, how would you have felt?''

''Tony, I couldn't—''

''Couldn't what?'' he cut in, trying not to make his voice too harsh. ''Trust me?''

That was when Ziva tilted her head as she looked up at him. Yes, indeed, she did look like she was on the verge of losing it, with her eyes now watery and her lips twitching slightly. It made him feel a little guilty, but this was a conversation they needed to have. They'd been avoiding it long enough. The timing was wrong—Tony knew that—but he wasn't sure it was ever going to be right.

''I trust you more than anyone.''

He believed her, he really did, but it only made him feel even more excluded. ''Just not with this.''

It was a statement rather than a question, really, and she treated it as such. ''It has nothing to with trust,'' she insisted. ''What I am doing is dangerous, Tony. I am risking my career, my citizenship, my _life,_ and I didn't want to drag you into that.''

''And what about Tim?'' He could tell he was losing some control now. ''Is his life worthless?''

Now Ziva looked angry, perhaps at the sheer nerve of Tony suggesting she didn't care about their friend or perhaps at the fact that he'd found a hole in her logic. ''I needed his technical skills. How can you even suggest his life is worthless to me? He is one of my best friends.''

Tony took a step forward, and part of him hated himself for pushing her like this when she was clearly in a difficult place. But he was sure both of them needed it. ''What I am to you then?''

She looked like she was torn between frowning and crying. ''What?''

''I thought I was one of your best friends, too,'' he held out his hands in mock-concession. ''And yet I was apparently completely useless to you.''

''No,'' she shook her head. ''No, that is not fair.''

''I may be bad with computers,'' he continued, turning away from her to pace up and down the carpet. ''I'll give you that one. But I've been a cop for about two decades. I have connections. I have countless experience hunting down scumbags—''

''—Tony—''

''I've even put my life on the line for you before. A few times, actually.'' He felt his own eyes grow misty as days old frustration started to un-bottle itself. ''And I'm still here!''

Her hand on his arm stopped him, and—inexplicably—calmed him enough to shut him up. ''I know you have,'' she said softly. ''That is exactly why I tried to keep you away. I know it was not fair on you.'' Tony could see how hard it was for her to admit this to him. ''Tim's help was purely digital. He could distance himself. He could keep himself out of the firing line.'' Another sigh betrayed her exhaustion, and it only made him feel guilty again. ''But with you…'' The look she then gave him then just about melted him, and it was enough to kill off the last of his anger even before she'd finished speaking. ''With you, I knew you would be right there.'' That was when the first tear escaped and ran down her cheek. Her hand slid up to his chest and she rested it there. ''Right _here._ With me. I knew you would follow me into anything, no matter how much it would require you to put on the line.''

Tony let out a sigh of his own. It took him a while to realise he'd taken her hand from his chest and was now holding it.

''I couldn't let you get hurt—or worse—for me. Not this time. You mean too much to me.''

He nodded in understanding. As much as it hurt him, he couldn't be sure that he wouldn't have done the same thing in her shoes. Once again, though, she'd underestimated how much he loved her. ''Well, I'm here now. Nothing you can do about that.''

The smile that he forced out of her gave him more relief than he thought possible. ''I know. You always find a way.''

He reached up and brushed a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. And that was when she really surprised him, because suddenly she'd thrown her arms around him and had her face buried in his neck. He returned the hug, closed his eyes and decided that it didn't really matter how or why he got there. They were going to fight this together. He was going to get her through this, no matter what.

''I really did think we were going to get him,'' he murmured against her head.

She nodded against him. ''So did I.''

''We will.''

''Yes. We will.''

* * *

Just as she was moving on with her life, this had to happen. This Parsons man happened, with his invasive questions and unclear motivations and his even less clear agenda. At first, Ziva had been sure it was her he was after. But then he came in and arrested Gibbs, who of course took all responsibility for his team's alleged misdeeds, before leaving the three of them standing there in the bullpen like shellshocked statues.

It was Tony's idea to hand in his badge. Her and McGee practically tripped up over each other to do the same because there was no way they would let him take the flak on his own.

That had been two weeks ago. Ziva hadn't spoken to her partner since.

Ziva was fairly certain he had been mad at her before that fateful day, but the message was loud and clear after a fortnight. She wasn't oblivious to the reason either. Tony was hurt by the fact she'd slept with Adam when she was back in Israel. He had to know it meant nothing to her, though, right? He had to know that he was the only man she wanted in her life. That was why she found herself outside his apartment on a Friday night, because she needed to find out exactly what Tony wanted from her. And because she missed him like a limb. She just needed to see him, even if he only yelled at her.

After three knocks, Ziva could hear his footsteps getting gradually louder until he was suddenly in the doorway. He was unshaved and his hair was slightly longer than normal, but his slightly rugged demeanour seemed to light a small fire in her belly as opposed to worrying her. Clearly, unemployment was taking its toll on him.

''Hey,'' he said in surprise.

''Hi.''

''What brings you to my humble abode?''

She wasn't sure how to put her reasoning into words. ''I am here to see you.''

Tony nodded along with that as if it seemed entirely reasonable. ''Ok.'' He stepped aside to let her in, and she brushed past him on the way in, ignoring the way he seemed to reluctant to meet her eyes.

''I have not heard from you for a while,'' she stated, getting to the crux of the issue as quickly as possible.

He closed the door. ''No?''

She turned to face him, but he was already walking past her and back to the living room. ''Um,'' she frowned, ''No. I was beginning to worry that you'd ran off to help Gibbs on his assignment,'' she half-joked as she followed him. ''I know you don't like…'' she trailed off when she saw the state of his living room. ''Sitting still.''

Tony made an attempt to tidy up a bit by shifting a few beer bottles and pizza boxes off the coffee table. The TV had some old-timey movie playing in the background that Ziva had little hope of recognising, and the apartment in general gave her the impression that he hadn't left it very often over the two weeks.

He at least had the awareness to look somewhat embarrassed. ''I can explain.''

Ziva pursed her lips. ''Explain what?''

''The mess.''

She gave the room another once-over. ''Well, I think the mess is quite self-explanatory.''

Tony let out a somewhat awkward laugh. ''I guess.''

''I would have been happy to keep you company,'' she told him as she stepped further into the room. When she stepped on a polystyrene container of some kind, she bent down to pick it up and chuck it on his little trash pile. ''If that's what you needed.''

He sighed from his now seated position on the couch. ''I'm not sure what I need.''

''A shave?'' she teased.

''You don't like it?'' he returned while running a hand over his chin.

Admittedly, she did kind of like it. ''I never said that.''

The smile she had been hoping for never formed on his face. ''I may have let myself go a little bit.''

Yes, it certainly seemed that way. But Ziva honestly didn't judge him for it, and she tried to make that clear with a shrug. ''You did not have to cut yourself off, Tony.''

''Yeah,'' he drawled.

''It has been tough on all of us. You didn't have to go through it alone.''

That was when she realised she must have said the wrong thing, because he had abruptly stood up and ran a shaky hand through his hair. ''Alone,'' he repeated on the way to the kitchen. ''That must be the word of the month. You told me you felt alone in Israel. And I wanted to be alone for a while, but here you are.''

She knew it needed to come up, but his reason for being angry at her was now out in the open. It wasn't necessarily the fact that she'd slept with Adam. It was her reasoning that had created the wedge between them. She remembered him telling her that she wasn't alone—in her own language, nonetheless. And, honestly, it wasn't something she was ever going to forget. Tony had spent days fighting tooth and nail to stop her from completely cutting herself off emotionally and going into a dark place. But as soon as she had buried her father it all came crashing back into her.

And he wasn't there.

Once again, she swallowed down her regretful sickness and followed Tony into his kitchen. He was stood there with both hands resting on the counter as he outwardly tried to control himself. He was angry. Really, really angry. And Ziva hated herself for it.

''We need to talk about this, Tony.''

He let out a bitter scoff. ''Oh, now you want to talk about it? Is the usual solution of having sex with one of your Mossad buddies not working lately?''

It sliced her, and she couldn't help but feel a small dose of defensiveness. ''Would you rather I came to you?''

Tony turned away from the counter and back to her. Now she could see the anger in his eyes. ''Don't make this about jealousy.''

She held up her hands in defeat. ''I know it is not about that.''

He took a step towards her. ''You felt alone,'' he reminded her. ''You _felt alone_.''

Any fight she had that was threatening to surface was fast disappearing. ''That was how I felt at the time, yes.''

Tony shook his head. ''I couldn't have been more clear with what I told you before you left.''

Ziva let out a sigh. ''You are right.''

''Once again, I only matter when it's convenient.''

That simultaneously infuriated her and broke her heart. ''That is not true.''

''I thought we were there, Ziva,'' he said painedly, getting right up in her face now. ''I thought we were there after Berlin. But then you run off and take Bodnar on by yourself. And you barely even look me in the eye for weeks and weeks after that. And then it turns out you gave Parsons all the ammunition he needed by sleeping with Eschel.''

She felt shame burn her insides for how she had treated Tony since the car crash—and before then, really—but she continued to argue her side of it, even if she knew it would get her nowhere. ''It meant nothing to me. He meant nothing to me.''

Tony took a few calming breaths and leaned forward to rest his hand on the counter right beside her. ''Do I mean anything to you?''

Now it was her who scoffed at such a ridiculous question. ''Of course you do. You know you do.''

''I want to mean something to you, Ziva. I would be happy if I could even mean half as much to you as you do to me.''

Despite everything, she felt a few flutters in her stomach. ''You are the one who hasn't spoken to me for to weeks.'' She wanted to kick herself for arguing again, but she didn't feel as though either of them were being fair to each other. ''And now you are making all these assumptions that I don't care about you, because you obviously don't know me well enough to understand that you are the most important person in the world to me.''

That seemed to soften his expression slightly and his eyes fell just as another sigh left his lips.

''I made a mistake in Israel, after I buried my father,'' she acknowledged, ''I made mistake. But It wasn't an act of malice against you. I wasn't demoting you like you think I was. I didn't know what I was doing.''

Tony rubbed a hand over his face, and she could tell how aware he was that she still had more to say. She could tell because he looked at the floor expectantly.

''I don't know how to do this, Tony,'' she admitted, her voice cracking a bit as she did so. Tony looked down up her hands while she gestured between them. ''I don't know what this is. All I know is that we need to fix it.''

Ziva was fairly sure she could see tears threatening to build in his eyes. ''I think we both need to think it over,'' he suggested. ''Because you're right, this needs to be fixed.'' Then he was leaning closer to her and started whispering in a tone that made her heart slam. ''And I'm not sure what this is, either, but I know what I want it to be. And I'm pretty sure you want the same thing.''

The stomach-fluttering increased in volume and intensity, and she knew no more words were needed. At least not then. So she nodded a confirmation, before turning to leave his apartment. Yes, they needed to fix this, but she wasn't sure if they'd taken a step away from or closer to each other with that encounter.

She could only hope it was the latter.

* * *

''Tony?''

God, she looked so good. He'd only just gotten used to seeing her smile again. They'd both made big steps towards mending themselves over the previous few weeks. He finally had the Ziva he knew and loved back in his life on a regular basis, and then she was jetting off to the other side of the world. And for what?

And that was why he was standing in her doorway at midnight.

''I want to come with you,'' he blurted out.

She frowned. ''What?''

Tony leaned against her doorframe with a sigh. ''I want to come with you.''

Her mouth simply hung open in shock. ''My flight is in seven hours.''

''So get a later one,'' he argued unreasonably.

''Tony—''

''I just want,'' he cut in, before a sudden realisation hit him, and he simply let his head drop. ''I'm being an idiot.''

Ziva chuckled. ''Yes.''

''You're only going for a few weeks.''

''Yes.''

He lifted his eyes back to her. ''I'm going to miss you, is what I was getting at.''

She gave him a soft look. ''I will call you. I promise.''

Tony nodded. ''I should let you sleep.''

Ziva shrugged as if that wasn't a huge priority for her and continued to stare into his eyes with a look he couldn't quite decipher. It was as if she was trying to silently decide something. She chewed on her bottom lip and seemed to come to a decision eventually. Tony just stayed exactly where he was, because, honestly, he was just happy to soak up her presence for a bit longer before she went on her little trip, even if their only activity consisted of staring at each other.

''I will miss you, too,'' she said eventually. And that was all she seemed willing to say at that moment, or at least that was all she had to say to him specifically because afterwards she half-turned into her apartment again. ''You can come in, but I need to pack.''

And, for some reason, Tony lost all control at that moment. Maybe it was the fact he wouldn't see her for a while. Or maybe it was the fact that he was so madly in love with her that he couldn't quite find a reasonable excuse not to openly express it anymore. Maybe it was her hair being all wild and untamed like it used to be back when they used to give in to their lusty temptations on a regular basis. It could have been several of those reasons, or all of them. It didn't matter because he called her name and she turned back to him.

That was when they exploded. The kiss seemed to ignite the entire world around them. It seemed to release eight years of history and complication and frustration into a ball of fiery chaos. They were in her bedroom and had ridden themselves of all clothing before Tony even knew what was really happening. This had been a long time coming, but nothing about it felt particularly awkward or unfamiliar.

Well, except maybe for the fact they were making love this time. He didn't think he would have labelled any of their previous bedroom encounters that way. But, boy, it was still hot as hell.

Hours later, he lay on her bed with a blissful smile. He was sweaty and exhausted but in the best possible way. Ziva was gently running her hands through his chest hair and smiling fondly, like she had done all those years ago under very different circumstances. He couldn't help but wonder why the hell they ever stopped doing this in the first place.

''I am only going to take care of a few things,'' Ziva told him after a few quiet moments. ''Family things. I will be coming back.''

He let out a content sigh. ''You promise?'' And his smile grew at her affectionate chuckle.

''I promise.''

* * *

_I'm fighting for you, Ziva._

She'd never believed anything more. She'd never been so certain that this man loved her. It all made this ten times harder. She told him she knew. She wanted to tell him so much more than that. She wanted to tell him that she loved him, too. That she needed him now more than ever. But she couldn't.

She was too broken, and he didn't deserve it.

That was why she needed to do this alone. That was why she needed to change herself alone.

If Tony understood it—which he probably did, knowing her as well as he always had—then he certainly didn't seem to like it. He wanted her to come back to DC with him. He wanted them to share a life together. She felt so empty on the inside that she wasn't sure she could ever give him what he wanted, though.

So that was why she slept with him that night in farmhouse, not to commit herself to him but to say goodbye. As much as she wanted to see him again and remain a part of his life, she honestly didn't think it was going to happen at that point. So, for a few hours, she allowed herself to openly love him while she still could.

It still hurt though.

God, it hurt. And when he kissed her like she was his literal life-source on the tarmac, right before stepping onto the plane, she allowed herself to cry. She allowed herself to _feel_ , if only for a few short minutes.

It's not until a few months after their farewell that her whole world is turned upside down. She had completely cut herself off from the life she'd built in America, only allowing herself one phone call with Gibbs and one emotionally charged video chat with Abby, and so she had managed to all but supress any thoughts about her old life. She could never stop thinking about Tony, though, and this immediately made her see his face again. It was as if he was right there with her while she read the little plus sign on her the pregnancy test. It was as if she could literally feel his breath on her neck. Like he was looking over her shoulder at it.

She'd never wanted him to be with her as much as she did then. She wondered how he'd react in reality, and if he would even want to speak to her after all this time. She had no idea what the hell was going to happen as a result of this little green plus sign.

All she knew was that she had to tell him.

Somehow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The third chapter will be veering away from canon somewhat. I simply can't get on board with Ziva not telling Tony about their daughter


	3. 3

The small piece of metal somehow felt heavier in his hand. It still felt familiar to the touch, and it still had an unmistakable smoothness to it as the chain slid between his fingers, but he never really acknowledged just how heavy it felt before. It was as if the little Star of David was somehow increasing in mass every time he decided to hold it. It was as if it had decided to transform itself into an anchor that was determined to bring him to a halt, finally keeping him still long enough for his emotions to spill out of their compartments. He wondered if these buried emotions were the same ones that had him absentmindedly reaching for the elegant piece of jewellery every time something reminded him of her. Each time he did reach for it, he found it to be heavier.

It was the weight in his chest that was ever-present.

Tony sensed his colleague hovering behind him and scoffed slightly at the fact that he still couldn't call McGee his partner—even though he technically was—because his partner wasn't here. His partner was no longer his partner in any sense of the word, but it was going to take a little bit longer to accept that.

''Did you get lost on the way to the coffee shop?''

Tony gripped the necklace harder as Tim slid onto the bench beside him. All he could do was sigh.

McGee's eyes flicked down to Tony's hands and the gears in his head could be heard turning. ''The boss gave up waiting ten minutes ago and walked out. Bishop is sat on the floor eating a sandwich that would make even you proud.''

This time Tony found himself smiling, even if only for a fleeting moment. ''I got distracted.''

''I figured.''

''I'm sorry.''

McGee leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. ''Wow. You really have changed.''

Tony frowned. ''How's that?''

''Not sure I've ever heard you apologise.''

The weight in his chest seemed to reach his stomach now. ''I've had a falling out with some of Gibbs' rules.''

The younger agent's eyes fell from the tree ahead of them to the ground as he nodded. ''Is that just lately? Or has it been ongoing?''

Tony side-eyed McGee. ''Are you interrogating me?''

''No,'' Tim insisted despite his next words being somewhat contradictory. ''Do you have something to confess?''

The necklace started moving its way through his fingertips again as if it had a mind of its own. He had no doubt whose mind it would have chosen to adopt. ''Not to you,'' he found himself saying, despite not really wanting to. And that was what brought McGee's attention back the jewellery.

''I miss her too, you know.''

Tony knew he did. Everyone did, but that's not what he had an issue with. '' _Her_ ,'' he repeated. ''Have you noticed how now no one says her name anymore?'' There were those bottled-up emotions threatening to surface again. ''It's like she never existed. It's like we've lost her again. But she was alive back then and she's still alive now.''

McGee listened carefully and patiently before speaking. ''I have noticed that you never say her name, either.''

''I don't?'' Tony had genuinely been caught off-guard by that.

''No. You never have to, though. We can see it in your eyes. You think about her all the time.''

Tony decided that there was no point in denying this. Maybe he was worse at compartmentalising than he thought. ''Sometimes I have to talk myself out of jumping on the next plane to Israel.''

He thought McGee would take that as a joke, but the kid obviously knew Tony better than he thought because there was nothing but understanding in his expression. Well, that and a small mixture of curiosity, which made perfect sense considering that no one from the outside could really have known the true extent of how complex the relationship between Tony and his partner really was.

 _Partner_. Ex-partner?

''Were you guys an…item this whole time then?'' Tim eventually asked.

There was no teasing in his co-worker's tone. No sense of taboo or disgust. It was as if he had always had his suspicions but wasn't entirely sure how to voice them. Until now, apparently. Tony trusted him as much as anyone else in his life at this point, and so decided that he could probably give him a very rough outline of the situation without having to spill his guts too much. Tony had only ever met one person he felt comfortable being 100% honest with, and even then it took about eight years to reach that point with them.

''We had a connection,'' Tony massively understated. ''It's always been complicated.''

 _Complicated, complicated, complicated._ He heard her voice from years prior, echoing with the wind as it danced across the Navy Yard.

Tim took a few moments to process that, but he seemed anything but shocked. ''You love her.''

It was neither a statement nor a question, and Tony saw no point in either confirming nor denying it.

* * *

One morning, when she was watching an old black a white movie— _film_ , a classic film—she finally decided to stop being a coward. Something about it reminded her so much if him that it almost felt like he was sat right beside her. It had been nearly two months since she'd found out, and three even longer months since she last saw Tony's face, or even heard his voice. She had been so terrified to call him that she kept finding excuses to put it off, all of which were pathetic.

Ziva made the most of this rare bout of courage before it disappeared again, and it was only when the phone started ringing that she felt the explosive thud of her heartbeat. Her throat was desert-dry by the time she heard him pick up. So much for courage.

She hadn't even paused the film.

''Ziva?''

God, that was his voice. That was really his voice.

Her determination from moments ago made way for strangling fear. This was possibly the most scared she'd ever been in her life, and she'd never thought it would be this man she associated with such a feeling. That was probably why she still hadn't said a damned word yet. What had become of them? Or was it just her?

''Ziva, I know that's you. You can change your number, but you can't change your breathing.''

Tears were on her cheeks suddenly, but she still couldn't speak. It was as if the voice she needed to hear more than any other was simultaneously capable of bringing her immeasurable relief and terrifying paralysis. Tony sighed from the other end, and she couldn't help but wonder how he could ever feel any affection towards her after everything she had put him through over their history. It was only about to get worse now, surely. Maybe this would be what finally makes him give up on her. She knew deep down that it would probably prove to be the opposite. But lately her pessimistic side had been winning out.

''Just let me know you're safe,'' his voice cracked slightly, and it only made it all hurt more. ''If you don't want to talk to me, then that's fine, but…'' he trailed off for a few heart-breaking seconds. ''I need to know you're OK. Please.''

That was what finally made her break. The fact that he still seemed to care about her, even after she'd screwed his life up several times. The fact that his first priority always seemed to be her well-being. She had never deserved him any less than she did right then, and she knew he'd be angry with her for not telling him sooner, but the fact was that just hearing his shift in tone and imagining the concern on his face was enough for to find her voice. It was enough for her to finally stop being a coward and to do the right thing.

However belated it was.

''I am safe, Tony.''

Another release of breath could be heard, this time he sounded relieved. ''Well…good.''

They both seemed content to just bask in each other's presence—as distanced as it still was—for a few silent moments. It was almost long enough, in fact, for Ziva to forget why she called in the first place. Her hand was soon resting on the reason, though. It was now a small bump and made itself impossible to be ignored.

''Did you want to talk?'' Tony asked eventually.

She swallowed. ''Yes.''

There was trepidation in his tone that made her wince. ''It's been months, Ziva.''

''I am sorry,'' she admitted gently. Honestly. ''I was not sure what to say.''

''Usually we start with hello.''

Despite everything, she snorted, and it seemed to lift some of the weight off her shoulders. ''Hello, Tony.''

''Hi.''

She winced in apology, even though he couldn't see it. ''I know it's late over there.''

His yawn confirmed it, but he seemed unfazed. ''It's not that late,'' he lied. ''It's never too late for you.''

Ziva decided not to dwell on the potential double meaning behind that, and instead found herself running a thumb over her baby-bump again. This was not the right way to do this. She loved hearing his voice after all the time that had passed, but she really needed to see him. She needed to tell him face to face. She didn't deserve to be buffered from his potential fury by several time zones. ''I really need to speak to you,'' she all-but whispered. ''In person.''

She practically held her breath for what felt like a million years, but then when Tony did respond he sounded almost excited. ''I can be on the next plane over.'' She could even hear him leap out of bed and presumably go to retrieve his laptop.

Tears built up in her eyes again. ''No,'' she choked out. ''No, you have wasted enough time and money travelling around the world for me. I will come to you.''

''Ziva,'' he warned, ''You really think I see it as wasted time?''

''It is not fair.''

He let out another sigh as she heard a chair being pulled out and sat on. ''You didn't want to come back to D.C.,'' he reminded her in that familiar tone that sounded half-gentle-half-stern. ''You wanted to distance yourself from it for a while, remember?'

He'd gone and made her heart flutter again, just like he used to do on a daily basis. She really didn't deserve him. But her child deserved to have the chance to know him. ''I know. But I really need to see you and I know what work is like.''

''Screw work,'' Tony said with surprising bluntness. ''Name a day, name a place. I'll be there.''

Ziva let loose a watery smile, and for the first time in months she looked to the future with a glimmer of hope. How could she have forgotten that the father of her child was the most loyal man she'd ever known? This baby had no idea what it was in for. If Tony wanted anything to with it—and Ziva knew in her heart that he would—then it was going to be loved more fiercely than any child ever had been.

''OK,'' she relented. ''Why don't we compromise?''

''Is this going to be a 'meet me halfway' kind of situation?''

Ziva chuckled. ''I have never been to Dublin.''

''Well, what do you know?'' She could literally _feel_ his smile. ''Neither have I.''

''What a coincidence.''

The tip-tapping of a keyboard travelled down the line. ''A wise man once told me there was no such thing.''

She had thought this was going to be the hardest part. She had thought that finding the courage to finally call him after all this time was going to be terrifying. And it was—at first—but it hadn't taken long for Ziva to remember that this was _Tony_. That, of all the things she'd ever faced, talking to him had always been the easiest, even if they weren't always honest with each other. Well, she was going to have to be fully honest with him when they met up, and there was no way of dancing around the issue this time.

Part of her couldn't help but wonder, though, if any conversation between them was ever going to be easy again.

* * *

''Um…''

That was all his brain could supply for him right then. He was painfully aware that there was a lot more that needed to be said, but he wasn't even sure where to begin. They'd met in a small café at Temple Bar, and all he could do was stare at her in awe. All he could do was hold onto her hand from across the table and try not to cry. All he could do was promise himself he would never say goodbye to her again as she caught him up on what she'd been doing. It was hard enough just to wrap his head around the fact that she was with him after all this time. He'd spent half the day in a confused state of bliss. It was also hard not to notice that something was off about her. A kind of nervous energy he'd rarely seen from her that had him forcibly biting his tongue on a few occasions as they explored the city together. The conversation remained easy, but there was always something serious bubbling under the surface that neither could ignore. He supposed this was par for the course by now when it came to them.

It was all too easy and too hard.

And then she'd told him the news. The real reason for this reunion. And his brain paused itself.

There she was, standing in front of him in his hotel room, with tears in her eyes and a hand placed on her stomach. From his position sat at the foot of the bed, he wondered what his facial expression must have been. He honestly didn't know how to describe how he felt. He was pretty sure there was some anger in there somewhere, but other than that he couldn't be certain. Weirdly, he was brought back to the undercover assignment a thousand years before when Ziva—or _Sophie_ , rather—had told him she was pregnant in a much bigger hotel room in a very different city. That was for show. Every element of that situation had been different except the parties involved.

It was always him and her.

''I know it is a lot,'' she murmured, her eyes falling to the carpet at his feet.

He blinked hard to try and kick his brain back into life. There were a few questions knocked loose eventually. He decided to treat this like a conference room interview and calmly go through them one at a time. ''How long?''

''Well,'' she said after clearing her throat. ''It has been three months since we last saw each other.''

Tony nodded, but didn't point out that he knew exactly how long it had been. To the day. It was hard not to when every day since then had felt like a physical and mental workout just in order to maintain what was left of his sanity. ''How long have you known?'' he clarified.

The guilt and nerves he'd felt emanating from her all day re-surfaced again, this time tugging downwards at the corners of her mouth and eyes. ''Two months.'' She answered eventually. Quietly. As if confessing to the most heinous of betrayals.

Tony jumped up to his feet and felt his hand run through his hair. ''Why?'' His own voice sounded foreign to his ears. So much for doing this calmly. ''Why now?''

She swallowed hard. ''I had to tell you—''

''Why _now_ , Ziva? I would have been there in a second.''

''I don't know,'' she admitted, voice slightly raised. ''I wanted to tell you right away, but I couldn't.''

Tony was aware he was pacing now, but it was only way he could release the sudden surge of restless energy he had. ''You wanted to—'' he cut himself off and span on his heels to face her again. ''Were you ever planning on seeing me again?''

The despairing frown she gave him tugged on his heartstrings a little too hard. ''What do you mean?''

He took a step towards her. ''If you weren't pregnant, would you ever have seen me again? Would you even have spoken to me?''

Another tear slipped down her cheek, and he wondered how many times he'd seen her cry over the past year. Too many. They stared each other down for a few moments, and he hated himself a little bit for how easily her eyes could still calm him, even if it was only a little bit. Even if was just enough to help him catch his breath.

''I am not sure,'' she admitted eventually.

He couldn't believe what he was hearing, and now he could feel his own eyes growing misty as he stared up at the ceiling. Away from the face that he was so desperately trying to be mad at. Ziva seemed to regret her words, even if they were true, because she was suddenly in front of him with her hand on his arm.

''It is not like that, Tony,'' she promised. ''I just didn't want to keep screwing up your life. You don't deserve it.''

He shook his head. ''You have no idea what my life is like without you.''

''I always assumed it would be better.''

That forced him to release a bitter chuckle as his eyes returned to her face. ''That's bullshit!'' He said a little too harshly, stepping away in order to keep himself moving again. ''I can tell you that from experience.''

He could hear Ziva letting out a sigh so heavy from behind him that he was surprised she didn't pass out. ''I know I should have told you sooner,'' she admitted. ''And I understand if you can't forgive me for it. Or for anything I have done lately.'' Her tone and words were so heavy that he had to sit back on the edge of the bed again to stop himself being crushed under the weight. ''I thought I would lose the baby before I even got the chance to see you. Honestly, I'm still not convinced they won't be taken away from me.''

Just like that, he felt like an ass for how he'd reacted. ''Ziva—''

''But if everything goes well,'' she cut in gently, ''which my doctor seems to think it should, then I wanted them to have the chance to know their father.''

Tony's heart rate had slowed, and hearing her words had almost completely thawed him, but he would be lying if he'd said he wasn't terrified. There was excitement blended in with it, though. Just enough to make him feel like everything would work out in the end. Just enough to allow him to imagine himself holding a child— _their_ child—at some point in the future and not being worried sick about screwing it up. It was a future he'd fantasized about a lot in recent years, and even if it was going to happen under less conventional circumstances it was still better than the one he'd been facing for the past three months.

He reached for her, and she took his hand and stepped in front of him with that look of uncertainty and worry still marring her features. From his position at the foot of the bed his eyes were pretty much level with the small bump that was about to change his life so significantly. He reached up with his free hand a ran his fingers over it as lightly as he could. Already feeling careful. Already feeling protective.

''Are they going to know you?'' she whispered. Almost pleaded, in fact.

The first of his tears escaped, and he almost laughed. ''Of course they are. Not even a question.''

A gentle tug from her brought him back to his feet and then they were embracing. They were practically holding each other up, and they were both crying now, both sniffling messes with no idea how to be a normal couple, but Tony couldn't care less. They were together again. They were fighting on the same side again, only this time they would have to get their act together for sake of their child. Tony took a deep breath, bringing a few curls with it, and vowed that he would do whatever it took to keep his family safe and happy. He knew Ziva would be on the same page, so as scary as this whole thing was, he was pretty sure they were going to kick parenting's ass.

''God, I missed you,'' he murmured against her head.

She gripped his t-shirt. ''So…'' she sniffled. ''You don't hate me?''

He couldn't help but laugh. As if the fact they were still hugging wasn't enough of an answer for her. ''No,'' he ensured her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. ''Quite the opposite, actually. Have I ever told you that?''

Ziva shook her head against him. ''You never had to.''

There goes his silly old heart again. ''We're going to have to figure this out, Ziva,'' he reminded her, although he was sure she wouldn't forget. ''It's not just about us anymore.''

This time it was a nod. ''We will.''

He chuckled to himself. ''I guess the Guinness tour can wait, huh?''

The returning laughter was music to his ears. ''I love you too, by the way.''

''I know.''

* * *

The first thing that hit her was the smell. It never failed to bring back an onslaught of memories. Some she tried to forget and some she tried to cherish. The sawdust, the bourbon, the fireplace in the living room. She had missed this place more than she realised. The sound of sanding stopped as soon as she got within a foot of the doorway to the basement. Ziva smiled to herself. You could never sneak up on Gibbs.

She was halfway down the stairs before he turned around from the piece of wood he was working on. It looked smaller than usual. ''I heard you were in town.'' No pleasantries.

''Yes. You may now have to put up with me for good, I'm afraid.''

He gave her his trademark smile, and the neither the hug nor the kiss on her temple felt as tentative as she'd been expecting. If she was honest, she'd been expecting a frostier reception. ''It's always good to have you home, Ziva.'' He stepped away to pour himself a glass—or a jar, in this instance—of bourbon.

''I am sorry I haven't been in contact since I left,'' she found herself saying.

Gibbs simply shrugged it off. ''You got to do what you got to do,'' he nodded her way. ''I would offer you a drink, but…''

She glanced down at her stomach, with raised eyebrows. ''You know?'' She was kicking herself even before Gibbs gave her _that_ look. ''Of course you know.''

''Congratulations.''

Ziva still found it a little strange whenever anyone said to her, so she simply smiled in thanks. ''I am guessing Tony told you?''

Another shrug. ''He may have mentioned it.''

''Hm.''

''I haven't told a soul if that's what you're worried about.''

Sort of, but it wasn't really Gibbs that had her worried. ''I just hope Tony isn't shouting it from the hilltops to every Tom, Rick and Charlie.''

She could tell she'd mangled an idiom or two by the twitch of his cheek, but he rarely insisted on correcting her like everyone else did. Instead he gave her another half-smile she'd long ago concluded was his way of showing affection. ''He's excited about it,'' Gibbs told her.

Her stomach fluttered at the memory of Tony's face when he'd seen the picture of the sonogram. Yes, Gibbs was right, but she couldn't help but notice the nervousness her partner had been showing as well. ''I think scared is the word your looking for,'' she half-joked.

Gibbs gave a conciliatory nod. ''Sure. That too. But there's already nothing he cares about more.''

She smiled fondly. ''Yes.''

''That's all that matters.''

Ziva hadn't really acknowledged how much she needed to see her old mentor until she'd set foot in his house. She would also have struggled to say exactly why she needed to see him. She found herself coming here without really thinking about it. She just knew she had to. But it had only been a few minutes and Gibbs had already managed to reassure her that she was welcome back in his life, tell her that the news of her pregnancy hadn't been spread around the whole Navy Yard like high school gossip, and calm her nerves about the upcoming struggle of parenthood that she and Tony faced. She had a feeling having him as a sounding board was going to prove to be as valuable as ever. In fact, her and Tony were probably going to drive him nuts.

She still felt guilty, though. ''I actually came here to apologise.''

He shook his head as he went back to sanding. ''You know how I feel about that.''

''I am not on your team anymore,'' she reminded him.

''I noticed.'' His smile assured her he was teasing.

That earned him an eye-roll normally reserved for Tony. ''That is what I wanted to talk about.'' When his eyes suggested he was curious to hear more, she made her way around the far side of the wooden frame. She always found it easier to explain herself when she wasn't standing still. ''I feel like we parted ways on bad terms, which was obviously never my intention.''

Gibbs seemed entirely dismissive. ''Ziva—''

''And I know you're not the most..'' she winced slightly to herself as she tried to find the right word, ''sentimental man in the world. But you deserved more than just a phone call.'' She glanced over his latest project back to his face. ''And for that I am sorry.''

He sighed to himself and stopped sanding again. ''You know what this is?''

It took Ziva a few moments to realise that he was gesturing at the wooden frame in front of him. She frowned to herself and ran her hand over it as she made her way back to his side. ''It looks too small to be a boat.''

''You're not wrong,'' he confirmed. ''It's going to be a crib.''

Her mouth fell open as she snapped her head back to him. ''Gibbs…''

''There's nothing to forgive. So stop apologising.''

Ziva was genuinely taken aback by the gesture and found herself with cloudy eyes and a tight throat for what felt like the hundredth time since she'd found out she was pregnant. ''I cannot believe you.''

He pulled her in for another hug, one that felt ten times more significant than the first. One that seemed to lift a huge weight off her shoulders. There was only one hug in recent memory that she would consider more important than this. It wasn't quite the Dublin hotel room, but it still meant a hell of a lot to her. She never could have dreamed that the two most important people in her life would welcome her back so lovingly. She could never have known how much she needed it, either.

''I just want you to be happy,'' Gibbs says from over her head. ''And DiNozzo better make you happy. You and the baby. Otherwise he'll have me to answer to.''

She simultaneously laughed and sniffed back tears. ''I think we can trust him.''

* * *

''Maybe I do have too many movies,'' Tony said to himself.

Perhaps he should sell some of the stuff in this room. Like maybe one of the chairs or half a dozen of the DVD shelves. Or maybe the piano? That could work. It took up far too much space, after all, and he never even played it. That corner of the room could be perfect if he could find a way to close it off. Was it possible to buy one of those big curtain rail things that hospitals had? Only with a nice tasteful curtain rather than one of those ugly ones. The idea sounded far too plausible for his liking, which meant Ziva would probably laugh at it.

He was busy shifting the couch over by a couple of feet when he heard Ziva's bemused voice coming from behind him.

''What are you doing?''

With a rather undignified grunt, he straightened up, hands on hips. ''Nothing,'' he lied. ''What are you doing awake?''

She looked around at the mess he'd made of the living room. ''You were talking to yourself.''

''I was?''

''And I got hungry,'' she added with a frown. ''I repeat my question.''

He rubbed the hair at the back of his. ''Um, I was just thinking.''

Ziva's face morphed into something more akin to amusement as she stepped further into the room. ''That's always dangerous.''

''I'm going to choose to ignore that.'' He held up his finger in warning. ''I was just thinking that we haven't got a baby room.'' Judging by the way her eyebrows raised slightly, he concluded that further explanation was needed. ''And so I was just trying to figure out a way to cram a crib into this apartment of mine without compromising on the baby's privacy.''

She absentmindedly rubbed the bump, a sight which had become increasingly common lately. ''I was not aware that babies valued privacy.''

''You know what I mean.''

Ziva approached him and rested a hand on his shoulder. ''OK. What was your plan of action?''

He sighed. ''Well, I only have a preliminary plan.''

''Shoot.''

Tony glanced down at her and could tell she was trying to drop her obvious amusement to humour him. The way her eyes sparkled made him appreciate it more he than he wanted to. This whole baby-mama thing suited her more than she realised. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek out of impulse, bringing a smile of mild surprise that made him appreciate her even more.

''We sell the piano,'' he began.

Now the smile made way for a frown as she looked over to the object in question. ''I like the piano.''

''Hear me out.'' He put his arm around her shoulders and held his hand out to paint the picture for her. ''We cash in on the piano. Then we move some of this crap around, find a way to separate that area from the rest of the room, and then Bob's your uncle, Fanny's your aunt. There you are with two ships.''

''Ships?''

''Rooms,'' he corrected himself. ''There you are with two rooms. I went a little far with the Pirates of the Caribbean quote.'' He could see her thinking it over with a small smile on her face, which either meant she liked the idea or was about to ridicule it. Tony therefore decided not to hedge his bets. ''Of course, if that idea's stupid then we can just put the crib in the middle of the floor but then it might block the view of the TV.''

She chuckled. ''No. No, I think your idea is genius, Tony.''

This time it was him frowning. ''I can't tell if you're being sarcastic.''

''How about,'' she continued, painting the picture with both hands, ''a giant blanket fort.''

''I guess that clears that up.''

''Aw,'' she said, reaching over to place her hand on his chest. ''I am joking. It isn't a terrible idea. I am not sure it is something you need to commit to at one in the morning.'' He looked at the clock on his mantle-piece and was somewhat surprised by the time. Ziva patted him a few times. ''We can talk about this. There is still time.''

''I know,'' he said with another sigh, before admitting to her what had been on his mind for at least a week or two. ''I just...You're going through all the hard stuff during pregnancy. I guess I just wanted to feel more useful.'' Ziva's face fell as if she strongly disagreed, but he continued. ''I want to feel like I'm helping.''

''Tony,'' she breathed out in the way that showed affection rather than irritation. ''You are helping. Every day.''

''I am?''

''Yes,'' she assured him, before looking around at the dislodged furniture again. ''What won't help is you getting insomnia before the baby even comes.''

Even if he was going to pretend to disagree with her sentiment, the yawn that escaped him would have utterly betrayed him. Maybe she had a point. But he had one too. ''Do you not worry about this stuff?''

She looked back up at him. ''The baby won't need that much space at first. They will be in the bedroom with us for a while, and then we will figure something out.'' Apparently his expression didn't convince her enough, though, because she reached up and pulled him by the chin to meet her eyes. ''Yes, we will need more space one day. But one step at a time, hmm?''

He took a deep, calming breath, but still couldn't help but feel guilty. ''You came back to D.C for me, and I can't even provide you with a big enough home.'' She tilted her head at him with narrowed eyes. ''Maybe I should have come to Israel.''

Ziva poked his chest. ''Stop that. We have been over this.''

He knew she was right, but he was feeling exceptionally unsure of himself tonight. Every now and then he would be hit with an almost overwhelming panic that he still wasn't ready for this. That he still wouldn't be ready—even logistically—when the baby eventually turned up. Luckily, Ziva was very well practiced at kicking his ass into line. He had a feeling she would need to put all of her experience in that department to good use over the coming months. Years, even.

''I know,'' he nodded, blinking away his latest batch of insanity. ''You're right.''

Her expression softened just before she lifted herself up on her toes to kiss him. ''You are taking your job very seriously,'' she murmured against him. ''Our child will be lucky to have you.''

Tony hummed in appreciation. ''Even if they have to sleep on a piano?''

Ziva laughed again and patted his cheek. ''Go to bed, Tony.''

''Not without you.''

She was away from him and halfway through the door when she turned back. ''I am going to make a hideously unhealthy sandwich.''

The sudden gurgle in his stomach was a good indicator as to how appealing that sounded. ''Any chance I can get one of those?''

Her voice travelled from around the corner. ''You can make your own.''

That forced a smile out of him. That woman. He gave the corner of the room one last look before he followed her into the kitchen, and eventually decided that his brain would never be able to accurately work out all the measurements required to install a blanket-fort baby room. Maybe he should enlist Gibbs' help.

'' _Not a terrible idea_ ,'' he repeated with a scoff, before stepping out.

* * *

The bright orange walls only served to make her feel nauseous. Or was she just very hungry? Who could tell? Her first visit back to the bullpen was an emotional trip down memory lane. But now, months later, she found herself stomping her feet and waddling down to the MCRT desks with all the grace of a stampeding elephant. She gave up caring about trying to hide how miserable she was weeks before, and now all she could think about was getting off her damned swollen feet and sitting down again. Not for the first time that month, she wished this kid would hurry up and _get out of her already._

She was at least able to acknowledge that someone was already at her desk—her _old_ desk—and decided that, in that case, Tony's chair could take the enormous strain of her pregnant butt. She dropped onto it with a groan and leaned back to close her eyes in relief.

''Um, Hi, Ziva.''

Her eyes opened to see Bishop's half-welcoming, half-confused face from across the room. ''Hello, Ellie,'' she said on a sigh.

''Are you looking for Tony?''

She scoffed to the ceiling. ''He bitched me.''

''He what?'' Bishop frowned.

''We were supposed to meet for lunch,'' Ziva explained. ''And he never showed.''

''Ohhh,'' Ellie dragged out. ''You mean he ditched you.''

Ziva sighed. ''He won't answer his cell either. Do you have any idea where he is?''

Bishop pulled her phone out and checked it for any potential updates. ''Him and McGee went out to look for a suspect a few hours ago. Gibbs got a call not long after that and disappeared without a word.''

''That sounds about right.'' Ziva tried to readjust herself and get more comfortable. Impossible as it was. ''How did Gibbs look when he left? Urgently worried or immensely irritated?''

Ellie thought that over. ''Irritated. Definitely irritated.''

''Then the boys have got themselves into trouble. But not the life-threatening kind.''

It looked as though the young agent hadn't even considered that. ''Huh.''

''I have told you before,'' Ziva said, ignoring how much she hated the way she sounded when she spoke like a wise old cynic. ''Where Tony goes, trouble follows.''

That earned her a knowing chuckle. ''You have told me that. And you seem to be right.''

''They once got locked up for breaking into a car impound,'' Ziva told her, not quite managing to fight off the fond smile that tugged at her mouth. ''They were hunted down by dogs.''

''Wow.'' It seemed as though Bishop was very happy to learn this piece of information. ''I have never heard that one before.

''McGee hates dogs, and Tony was very embarrassed by the mugshot.''

Bishop's face lit up even more. ''There were mugshots?''

What started off as a chuckle quickly turned in to an excruciating stab of pain for Ziva. Her whole lower half cramped like it was trying to implode. Thankfully, it passed quickly. Not quick enough to escape Bishop's notice, however. She was on her feet and approaching Tony's desk.

''Are you OK?''

Ziva waved it off. ''I am fine. Our daughter has just been a little restless lately.''

Ellie didn't seem convinced. She continued to observe Ziva as she perched herself up on the filing cabinet next to the TV. ''Tony seemed pretty stoked when he found out it was a girl.''

The chair seemed to have a mind of its own, and Ziva found herself spinning and rolling all over the place to try and face Ellie. ''That was because…'' She readjusted herself again. ''It won him twenty bucks.'' She decided to elaborate when all she got was a confused frown. ''We had a bet. I was sure it would be a boy.''

''Huh. Well, he did tell me he would be happy no matter what.''

Ziva's hand found itself on top of her huge mountain of a belly. ''Yes. He is growing just as anxious as this little one,'' she said fondly. ''She has no idea what she's in for, with him as her father.''

Ellie hummed in agreement. ''I know one thing for sure.''

''What's that?''

''No one's ever going to mess with that kid.''

Again, Ziva went to laugh and instead found herself doubling over with pain again. This time it lasted longer and she very much struggled to shake it off. Surely this didn't mean what she thought it meant? It was like her daughter knew they were talking about her and decided that she had to introduce herself.

Bishop was back on her feet and resting her hand on Ziva's shoulder. ''I'm calling Tony.''

She could only nod. Before any cell phone could be even be unlocked, though, the elevator dinged, and three men came walking out. The younger two were more animated, while the man who led them looked like he was very much over life. Ziva didn't need any introductions when it came to this crowd, particularly not the man with dark hair and a fresh bruise decorating his eye socket. She was in a little bit too much pain to enjoy her prediction being vindicated. They clearly had got into trouble.

''He definitely looked like Hodor,'' McGee said insistently. ''He had a beard and everything.''

''I don't know who Hodor is!'' Tony argued.

''You're in trouble now, DiNozzo.''

Tony turned from McGee to Gibbs. ''Oh, don't tell me you watch that show, too, boss.'' Upon Gibbs gesture, the senior field agent realised who was sat at his desk and froze to the spot. ''Ziva? Oh crap. I can explain why I missed lunch.''

''He was busy getting his ass kicked.''

''Zip it, McCoward,'' Tony pointed at him with stern look before approaching Ziva. ''You see, I was brutally attacked by a behemoth of a man—who I kind of think looked like Andre the Giant in Princess Bride—''

''I do not care, Tony!'' she practically yelled. The latest wave of pain had passed long enough ago for her to respond, but her patience was running out.

''She needs a hospital,'' Ellie told him urgently as she helped Ziva to her feet.

Tony eyes widened. ''What?''

Ziva practically fell into him and grabbed his shirt. She really, really wanted to scream. ''I think our darling daughter is trying to _claw_ her way out of me.''

It suddenly felt as though he'd been frozen stiff under her hand. ''Um, has your—''

''—why is the floor wet?'' McGee asked from behind Tony's shoulder, earning him a glare from Bishop.

Ziva raised her eyebrow at Tony. ''That answers that,'' he surmised.

It was very hard to breath all of a sudden. This was all too much for Ziva. There were too many people staring at her. She hated being the centre of attention, and the pain was worse than anything she'd recently endured. But that wasn't what had brought about the semi-panic attack she was abruptly having. Maybe it was Tony's shocked face, or maybe it was the fact that she just happened to be going into labour in the bullpen off all places. Maybe she was just terrified. Because even though she'd had months to prepare for this moment, it had still caught her off guard. And now she wasn't sure she was ready.

''Get the car, DiNozzo.''

''Getting the car, boss,'' Tony went to spin away but Ziva found herself tightening her grip on him.

''Ziva?'' he whispered. And she hoped he would be able to see exactly what she was thinking just by looking into her eyes. He was always good at that, and right now she needed him to be, because speaking was becoming increasingly difficult. She knew he'd gotten the message when he gently took hold of her hand lifted it from his shirt. ''I've got your back. OK?''

Ready or not, she knew she had to do this. She gave him a tight nod and let him run over to the elevator. McGee stepped forward to help Ellie escort her in the same direction. Ordinarily, Ziva would have hated needing two people to help her, but there was no way she would manage to walk the required distance if it wasn't for both of them.

''Tony's lucky he's not already in the hospital,'' McGee told them after pressing the down button. ''The size of that guy.''

''The question is,'' Ellie chimed in. ''Was he Hodor or was he Fezzik?''

The doors opened after what felt like a lifetime.

''Who's Fezzik?'' McGee asked.

They stepped onto the elevator and let Ziva lean against the side. ''Princess Bride,'' she managed to groan. ''It is a good book.''

''And an even better movie,'' Ellie added.

Ziva smiled to herself, despite everything, as the lift started going down. ''You sound just like To—''

She got no further before another huge contraction smashed into her again. Two sets of hands reached for her as she doubled over again. This time she allowed herself to have a good scream, no longer caring about how scarring it might be for her companions. God, this child had better be less trouble after she'd been born.

* * *

This kid was going to be trouble, that was for sure.

Tony had only met her a few hours ago and he was already completely enamored. He was pretty sure she could ask him for anything in her life and he would find a way to give it to her. There was nothing he wouldn't do for this tiny little person, even if all she had done so far is fuss and sleep. She was quiet and calm for a new-born, they'd been told. He'd told them that she must have got that from her mother. But she was half him. She would find her voice soon enough.

He did another lap of the hospital room with her, being sure to be as gentle and quiet as he possibly could. Both his girls were asleep now and he didn't want to wake either of them. So he just kept drifting back and forth with his daughter and wondering how exactly his life had reached this point. It was less than a year ago that he'd left to find Ziva. He'd looked all over the Middle East for a woman he simply needed in his life, only to find out she was leaving it when he did eventually track her down.

As was often the case with them, though, fate had other ideas.

He looked up from his daughter's face to the bed where Ziva lay. She looked peaceful for the first time in hours. And, honestly, he had hated seeing her go through something as painful as that, but he was pretty sure she would agree it was worth it. He certainly thought it was. She let out another snore and he smiled to himself. All the history. All the highs and lows and pain and joy. Everything they had been through together since day one had led to this moment.

There was very little he would change about any of it.

* * *

''We still need a name for her.''

Ziva thought that over from where she was positioned, head on Tony's shoulder, as they both laid in her hospital bed. They were both seemingly happy to just sit back and stare at their daughter as if she was the most fascinating person in the world. Ziva supposed that she was to them.

''I have not even thought about it.''

He smiled. ''You know, this was probably something we should have been arguing over for the last three months.''

She shrugged. ''Probably.''

Tony took a deep breath, and Ziva looked at the side of his face as he gave it some serious consideration. The bruise was turning into a darker shade of purple now. She reached up and ran her fingertips over it. She was expecting a wince, and maybe even a few words of complaint to accompany it, but none came.

''You have not even complained once,'' she pointed out.

He raised an eyebrow. ''Well you kind of stole my thunder by giving birth back there.''

Ziva snorted. ''Perhaps that is why she is so calm,'' she looked back to the baby. ''Maybe you are her role model already.''

The way he scrunched his nose suggested he disagreed. ''Nah. She's got that quiet, observant David look about her.''

''I was not a quiet baby.''

''No?''

She shook her head. ''Tali was always the well-behaved one. An angel, in my parents eyes.''

Tony frowned down at their daughter as if he'd just noticed something. ''Tali,'' he repeated, this time to the baby itself. A tiny fist popped up from the bassinet as if the child was answering to him. He looked back to Ziva with raised eyebrows. ''She seems to like that.''

''Hmm.''

''What do you think? Is she a Tali?''

Ziva gave the baby another look, and before she knew it a smile had forced its way onto her face and a tear had escaped her eye. Yes, this felt right. Now that it had been thrown out there, she didn't think any other name could even compete. The word and the child in front of them just seemed to match up.

''Yes, she is a Tali,'' she confirmed thickly.

Tony kissed the top of her head. ''I like it.''

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may end it there, or I may add a 4th chapter with a bit more Tali. Not too sure yet. Hope you enjoyed


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